the vacant Throne ten tedious Winters more, in hopes of his return?
_Aman._ Indeed I think I shou'd. Tho' I confess, after those
Obligations he has to me, shou'd he abandon me once more, my Heart
wou'd grow extremely urgent with me to root him thence, and cast him
out for ever.
_Ber._ Were I that thing they call a slighted Wife, some Body shou'd
run the risque of being that thing they call--a Husband.
_Aman._ O fy, _Berinthia_! No Revenge shou'd ever be taken against a
Husband: But to wrong his Bed is a Vengeance, which of all Vengeance----
_Ber._ Is the sweetest--ha, ha, ha! Don't I talk madly?
_Aman._ Madly indeed.
_Ber._ Yet I'm very innocent.
_Aman._ That I dare swear you are. I know how to make Allowances for
your Humour: You were always very entertaining Company; but I find
since Marriage and Widowhood have shewn you the World a little, you are
very much improv'd.
_Ber._ [_Aside._] Alack a-day, there has gone more than that to improve
me, if she knew all.
_Aman._ For Heaven's sake, _Berinthia_, tell me what way I shall take
to persuade you to come and live with me?
_Ber._ Why, one way in the World there is----and but one.
_Aman._ Pray which is that?
_Ber._ It is to assure me--I shall be very welcome.
_Aman._ If that be all, you shall e'en lie here to-night.
_Ber._ To-night?
_Aman._ Yes, to-night.
_Ber._ Why, the People where I lodge will think me mad.
_Aman._ Let 'em think what they please.
_Ber._ Say you so, _Amanda_? Why then they shall think what they
please: For I'm a young Widow, and I care not what any body thinks. Ah,
_Amanda_, it's a delicious thing to be a young Widow.
_Aman._ You'll hardly make me think so.
_Ber._ Phu, because you are in love with your Husband: but that is not
every Woman's Case.
_Aman._ I hope 'twas yours, at least.
_Ber._ Mine, say ye? Now I have a great mind to tell you a Lye, but I
shou'd do it so aukwardly, you'd find me out.
_Aman._ Then e'en speak the Truth.
_Ber._ Shall I?----Then after all, I did love him, _Amanda_----as a Nun
does Penance. _Aman._ Why did not you refuse to marry him, then?
_Ber._ Because my Mother wou'd have whipt me.
_Aman._ How did you live together?
_Ber._ Like Man and Wife--asunder;
He lov'd the Country, I the Town.
He Hawks and Hounds, I Coaches and Equipage.
He Eating and Drinking, I Carding and Playing.
He the Sound of a Horn, I the Squeak of a Fiddle.
We were dull Company at Table, worse a-bed.
Whenever we met, we gave one another the Spleen.
And never agreed but once, which was about lying alone.
_Aman._ But tell me one thing truly and sincerely.
_Ber._ What's that?
_Aman._ Notwithstanding all these Jars, did not his Death at last
extremely trouble you?
_Ber._ O yes: Not that my present Pangs were so very violent, but the
After-pains were intolerable. I was forc'd to wear a beastly Widow's
Band a Twelvemonth for't.
_Aman._ Women, I find, have different Inclinations.
_Ber._ Women, I find, keep different Company. When your Husband ran
away from you, if you had fallen into some of my Acquaintance, 'twou'd
have sav'd you many a Tear. But you go and live with a Grandmother, a
Bishop, and an old Nurse, which was enough to make any Woman break her
Heart for her Husband. Pray, _Amanda_, if ever you are a Widow again,
keep yourself so as I do.
_Aman._ Why, do you then resolve you'll never marry?
_Ber._ O, no; I resolve I will.
_Aman._ How so?
_Ber._ That I never may.
_Aman._ You banter me.
_Ber._ Indeed I don't. But I consider I'm a Woman, and form my
Resolutions accordingly.
_Aman._ Well, my Opinion is, form what Resolution you will, Matrimony
will be the end on't.
_Ber._ Faith it won't.
_Aman._ How do you know?
_Ber._ I'm sure on't.
_Aman._ Why, do you think 'tis impossible for you to fall in love?
_Ber._ No.
_Aman._ Nay, but to grow so passionately fond, that nothing but the Man
you love can give you rest?
_Ber._ Well, what then?
_Aman._ Why, then you'll marry him.
_Ber._ How do you know that?
_Aman._ Why, what can you do else?
_Ber._ Nothing--but sit and cry.
_Aman._ Psha.
_Ber._ Ah, poor _Amanda_, you have led a Country Life: But if you'll
consult the Widows of this Town, they'll tell you, you shou'd never
take a Lease of a House you can hire for a Quarter's Warning.
[_Exeunt._
[Illustration]
+ACT+ III.
_Enter Lord ~Foppington~ and Servant._
_Lord Fop._ Hey, Fellow, let the Coach come to the Door.
_Serv._ Will your Lordship venture so soon to expose yourself to the
Weather?
_Lord Fop._ Sir, I will venture as soon as I can, to expose myself
to the Ladies: tho' give me my Cloke, however; for in that Side-bax,
what between the Air that comes in at the Door on one side, and the
intolerable Warmth of the Masks on t'other, a Man gets so many Heats
and Colds, 'twou'd destroy the Canstitution of a Harse.
_Ser._ [_Putting on his Cloke._] I wish your Lordship wou'd please
to keep House a little longer, I'm afraid your Honour does not well
consider your Wound.
_Lord Fop._ My Wound!----I wou'd not be in Eclipse another Day, tho' I
had as many Wounds in my Guts as I have had in my Heart.
_Enter ~Young Fashion~._
_Young Fash._ Brother, your Servant. How do you find yourself to-day?
_Lord Fop._ So well, that I have arder'd my Coach to the Door: So
there's no great Danger of Death this baut, _Tam_.
_Young Fash._ I'm very glad of it.
_Lord Fop._ _aside._] That I believe's a Lye. Pr'ythee, _Tam_, tell me
one thing: Did not your Heart cut a Caper up to your Mauth, when you
heard I was run thro' the Bady?
_Young Fash._ Why do you think it shou'd?
_Lord Fop._ Because I remember mine did so, when I heard my Father was
shat thro' the Head?
_Young Fash._ It then did very ill.
_Lord Fop._ Pr'ythee, why so?
_Young Fash._ Because he us'd you very well.
_Lord Fop._ Well?--naw strike me dumb, he starv'd me. He has let me
want a Thausand Women for want of a Thausand Paund.
_Young Fash._ Then he hindered you from making a great many ill
Bargains; for I think no Woman is worth Money, that will take Money.
_Lord Fop._ If I were a younger Brother, I shou'd think so too.
_Young Fash._ Why, is it possible you can value a Woman that's to be
bought?
_Lord Fop._ Pr'ythee, why not as well as a Pad-Nag?
_Young Fash._ Because a Woman has a Heart to dispose of; a Horse has
none.
_Lord Fop._ Look you, _Tam_, of all things that belang to a Woman, I
have an Aversion to her Heart; far when once a Woman has given you her
Heart----you can never get rid of the rest of her Bady.
_Young Fash._ This is strange Doctrine: But pray in your Amours how is
it with your own Heart?
_Lord Fop._ Why, my Heart in my Amours----is like----my Heart aut of
my Amours; _a la glace_. My Bady, _Tam_, is a Watch; and my Heart is
the Pendulum to it; whilst the Finger runs raund to every Hour in the
Circle, that still beats the same time.
_Young Fash._ Then you are seldom much in love?
_Lord Fop._ Never, Stap my Vitals.
_Young Fash._ Why then did you make all this Bustle about _Amanda_?
_Lord Fop._ Because she was a Woman of an insolent Virtue, and I
thought myself piqu'd in Honour to debauch her.
_Young Fash._ Very well. [_Aside._] Here's a rare Fellow for you,
to have the spending of Five Thousand Pounds a-year. But now for my
Business with him. [_To Lord Fop._] Brother, tho' I know to talk of
Business (especially of Money) is a Theme not quite so entertaining to
you as that of the Ladies, my Necessities are such, I hope you'll have
patience to hear me.
_Lord Fop._ The greatness of your Necessities, _Tam_, is the worst
Argument in the Warld far your being patiently heard. I do believe you
are going to make a very good Speech, but, strike me dumb, it has the
worst beginning of any Speech I have heard this Twelvemonth.
_Young Fash._ I'm very sorry you think so.
_Lord Fop._ I do believe thou art. But come, let's know thy Affair
quickly; for 'tis a new Play, and I shall be so rumpled and squeezed
with pressing thro' the Crawd, to get to my Servant, the Women will
think I have lain all Night in my Clothes.
_Young Fash._ Why then (that I may not be the Author of so great a
Misfortune) my Case in a Word is this: The necessary Expences of my
Travels have so much exceeded the wretched Income of my Annuity, that
I have been forced to mortgage it for Five Hundred Pounds, which is
spent; so that unless you are so kind to assist me in redeeming it, I
know no Remedy but to take a Purse.
_Lord Fop._ Why, Faith, _Tam_----to give you my Sense of the thing,
I do think taking a Purse the best Remedy in the Warld; for if you
succeed, you are reliev'd that way; if you are taken----you are
reliev'd t'other.
_Young Fash._ I'm glad to see you are in so pleasant a Humour, I hope I
shall find the Effects on't.
_Lord Fop._ Why, do you then really think it a reasonable thing I
should give you Five Hundred Paunds?
_Young Fash._ I do not ask it as a Due, Brother, I am willing to
receive it as a Favour.
_Lord Fop._ Thau art willing to receive it any haw, strike me
speechless. But these are damn'd times to give Money in: Taxes are so
great, Repairs so exorbitant, Tenants such Rogues, and Perriwigs so
dear, that the Devil take me, I'm reduc'd to that extremity in my Cash,
I have been farc'd to retrench in that one Article of sweet Pawder,
till I have braught it dawn to Five Guineas a Manth. Naw judge, _Tam_,
whether I can spare you Five hundred Paunds?
_Young Fash._ If you can't, I must starve, that's all, [_Aside._] Damn
him.
_Lord Fop._ All I can say is, you should have been a better Husband.
_Young Fash._ 'Oons, if you can't live upon five thousand a-year, how
do you think I should do't upon two hundred?
_Lord Fop._ Don't be in a Passion, _Tam_; far Passion is the most
unbecoming thing in the Warld----to the Face. Look you, I don't love to
say any thing to you to make you melancholy; but upon this occasion I
must take leave to put you in mind, that a Running Horse does require
more Attendance, than a Coach-Horse. Nature has made some difference
'twixt you and I.
_Young Fash._ Yes, she has made you older. [_Aside._] Pox take her.
_Lord Fop._ That is nat all. _Tam_.
_Young Fash._ Why, what is there else?
_Lord Fop._ [_Looking first upon himself, then upon his
Brother._]----Ask the Ladies.
_Young Fash._ Why, thou Essence Bottle, thou Musk-Cat, dost thou then
think thou hast any Advantage over me, but what Fortune has given thee?
_Lord Fop._ I do----stap my Vitals.
_Young Fash._ Now, by all that's great and powerful, thou art the
Prince of Coxcombs.
_Lord Fop._ Sir----I am praud of being at the Head of so prevailing a
Party.
_Young Fash._ Will nothing then provoke thee?--Draw, Coward.
_Lord Fop._ Look you, _Tam_, you know I have always taken you for a
mighty dull Fellow, and here is one of the foolishest Plats broke
out, that I have seen a long time. Your Paverty makes your Life so
burdensome to you, you would provoke me to a Quarrel, in hopes either
to slip thro' my Lungs into my Estate, or to get yourself run thro' the
Guts, to put an end to your Pain. But I will disappoint you in both
your Designs; far with the Temper of a Philasapher, and the Discretion
of a Statesman--I will go to the Play with my Sword in my Scabbard.
[_Exit ~Lord Fop~._
_Young Fash._ So! Farewel, Snuff-Box. And now, Conscience, I defy thee.
_Lory!_
_Enter ~Lory~._
_Lo._ Sir.
_Young Fash._ Here's rare News, _Lory_; his Lordship has given me a
Pill has purg'd off all my Scruples.
_Lo._ Then my Heart's at ease again: For I have been in a lamentable
Fright, Sir, ever since your Conscience had the Impudence to intrude
into your Company.
_Young Fash._ Be at peace, it will come there no more: My Brother has
given it a wring by the Nose, and I have kick'd it down Stairs. So run
away to the Inn; get the Horses ready quickly, and bring them to old
_Coupler_'s, without a Moment's Delay.
_Lo._ Then, Sir, you are going straight about the Fortune.
_Young Fash._ I am: away; fly, _Lory_.
_Lo._ The happiest Day I ever saw. I'm upon the Wing already.
[_Exeunt several ways._
+SCENE+, _A Garden_.
_Enter ~Loveless~ and Servant_.
_Lov._ Is my Wife within?
_Ser._ No, Sir, she has been gone out this Half-hour.
_Lov._ 'Tis well; leave me.
_Solus._
Sure Fate has yet some Business to be done,
Before _Amanda_'s Heart and mine must rest;
Else, why amongst those Legions of her Sex,
Which throng the World,
Shou'd she pick out for her Companion
The only one on Earth
Whom Nature has endow'd for her undoing?
Undoing was't, I said----Who shall undo her?
Is not her Empire fix'd? Am I not hers?
Did she not rescue me, a groveling Slave,
When, chain'd and bound by that black Tyrant Vice,
I labour'd in his vilest Drudgery?
Did she not ransom me, and set me free?
Nay, more:
When by my Follies sunk
To a poor tatter'd, despicable Beggar,
Did she not lift me up to envy'd Fortune?
Give me herself, and all that she possest?
Without a Thought of more Return,
Than what a poor repenting Heart might make her,
Han't she done this? And if she has,
Am I not strongly bound to love her for it?
To love her--Why, do I not love her then?
By Earth and Heaven, I do!
Nay, I have Demonstration that I do:
For I would sacrifice my Life to serve her.
Yet hold----If laying down my Life
Be Demonstration of my Love,
What is't I feel in favour of _Berinthia_?
For shou'd she be in danger, methinks, I cou'd incline
To risk it for her Service too; and yet I do not love her.
How then subsists my Proof?--
--O, I have found it out.
What I would do for one, is Demonstration of my Love;
And if I'd do as much for t'other: it there is Demonstration
of my Friendship----Ay----it must be so. I find
I'm very much her Friend.--Yet let me ask myself one
puzzling Question more:
Whence springs this mighty Friendship all at once?
For our Acquaintance is of a later Date. Now Friendship's
said to be a Plant of tedious Growth, its Root
compos'd of tender Fibres, nice in their Taste, cautious
in spreading, check'd with the least Corruption in the
Soil, long ere it take, and longer still ere it appear to
do so; whilst mine is in a Moment shot so high, and fix'd
so fast, it seems beyond the Power of Storms to shake it.
I doubt it thrives too fast.
[_Musing._
_Enter ~Berinthia~._
--Ah, she here!--Nay, then take heed, my Heart, for
there are Dangers towards.
_Ber._ What makes you look so thoughtful, Sir? I hope you are not ill.
_Lov._ I was debating, Madam, whether I was so or not; and that was it
which made me look so thoughtful.
_Ber._ Is it then so hard a matter to decide? I thought all People had
been acquainted with their own Bodies, tho' few People know their own
Minds.
_Lov._ What if the Distemper, I suspect, be in the Mind?
_Ber._ Why then I'll undertake to prescribe you a Cure.
_Lov._ Alas, you undertake you know not what.
_Ber._ So far at least then allow me to be a Physician.
_Lov._ Nay, I'll allow you so yet farther: For I have reason to
believe, shou'd I put myself into your Hands, you wou'd increase my
Distemper.
_Ber._ Perhaps I might have Reasons from the College not to be too
quick in your Cure; but 'tis possible, I might find ways to give you
often Ease, Sir.
_Lov._ Were I but sure of that, I'd quickly lay my Case before you.
_Ber._ Whether you are sure of it or no, what Risk do you run in trying?
_Lov._ O, a very great one.
_Ber._ How?
_Lov._ You might betray my Distemper to my Wife.
_Ber._ And so lose all my Practice.
_Lov._ Will you then keep my Secret?
_Ber._ I will, if it don't burst me.
_Lov._ Swear.
_Ber._ I do.
_Lov._ By what?
_Ber._ By Woman.
_Lov._ That's swearing by my Deity. Do it by your own, or I shan't
believe you.
_Ber._ By Man then.
_Lov._ I'm satisfy'd. Now hear my Symptoms, and give me your Advice.
The first were these:
When 'twas my Chance to see you at the Play,
A random Glance you threw, at first alarm'd me,
I cou'd not turn my Eyes from whence the Danger came:
I gaz'd upon you, till you shot again,
And then my Fears came on me.
My Heart began to pant, my Limbs to tremble,
My Blood grew thin, my Pulse beat quick,
My Eyes grew hot and dim, and all the Frame of Nature
Shook with Apprehension.
'Tis true, some small Recruits of Resolution
My Manhood brought to my Assistance,
And by their Help I made a Stand a while,
But found at last your Arrows flew so thick,
They cou'd not fail to pierce me;
So left the Field,
And fled for shelter to _Amanda_'s Arms.
What think you of these Symptoms, pray?
_Ber._ Feverish every one of 'em. But what Relief pray did your Wife
afford you?
_Lov._ Why, instantly she let me Blood, which for the present much
assuag'd my Flame. But when I saw you, out it burst again, and rag'd
with greater Fury than before. Nay, since you now appear, 'tis so
increas'd, that in a Moment, if you do not help me, I shall, whilst you
look on, consume to Ashes.
[_Taking hold of her Hand._
_Ber._ [_Breaking from him._] O Lard, let me go: 'Tis the Plague, and
we shall all be infected.
_Lov._ [_Catching her in his Arms, and kissing her._] Then we'll die
together, my charming Angel.
_Ber._ O Ged----the Devil's in you. Lard, let me go, here's somebody
coming.
_Enter Servant._
_Serv._ Sir, my Lady's come home, and desires to speak with you: She's
in her Chamber.
_Lov._ Tell her I'm coming.
[_Exit Serv._
_To Ber._ But before I go, one Glass of Nectar more to drink her Health.
_Ber._ Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens!
_Lov._ [_Kissing her._] In Matters of Love, a Woman's Oath is no more
to be minded than a Man's.
_Ber._ Um----
_Enter ~Worthy~._
_Wor._ Ha! What's here? my old Mistress, and so close, I'faith! I wou'd
not spoil her Sport for the Universe.
[_He retires._
_Ber._ O Ged----Now do I pray to Heaven, [_Exit ~Loveless~ running._]
with all my Heart and Soul, that the Devil in Hell may take me, if
ever----I was better pleas'd in my Life--This Man has bewitch'd
me, that's certain. [_Sighing._] Well, I am condemn'd, but, Thanks
to Heaven, I feel myself each Moment more and more prepar'd for my
Execution--Nay, to that degree, I don't perceive I have the least fear
of Dying. No, I find, let the Executioner be but a Man, and there's
nothing will suffer with more Resolution than a Woman. Well, I never
had but one Intrigue yet: But I confess I long to have another. Pray
Heaven it end as the first did tho', that we may both grow weary at a
time; for 'tis a melancholy thing for Lovers to outlive one another.
_Enter ~Worthy~._
_Wor._ [_Aside._] This Discovery's a lucky one, I hope to make a happy
use on't. That Gentlewoman there is no Fool; so I shall be able to make
her understand her Interest. [_To_ Ber.] Your Servant, Madam; I need
not ask you how you do, you have got so good a Colour.
_Ber._ No better than I us'd to have, I suppose.
_Wor._ A little more Blood in your Cheeks.
_Ber._ The Weather's hot.
_Wor._ If it were not, a Woman may have a Colour.
_Ber._ What do you mean by that?
_Wor._ Nothing.
_Ber._ Why do you smile then?
_Wor._ Because the Weather's hot.
_Ber._ You'll never leave roguing, I see that.
_Wor._ [_Putting his Finger to his Nose._] You'll never leave----I see
that.
_Ber._ Well, I can't imagine what you drive at. Pray tell me what you
mean?
_Wor._ Do you tell me, it's the same thing.
_Ber._ I can't.
_Wor._ Guess!
_Ber._ I shall guess wrong.
_Wor._ Indeed you won't.
_Ber._ Psha! either tell, or let it alone.
_Wor._ Nay, rather than let it alone, I will tell. But first I must put
you in mind that, after what has past 'twixt you and I, very few things
ought to be Secrets between us.
_Ber._ Why what Secrets do we hide? I know of none.
_Wor._ Yes, there are two; one I have hid from you, and t'other
you wou'd hide from me. You are fond of _Loveless_, which I have
discover'd; and I am fond of his Wife----
_Ber._ Which I have discover'd.
_Wor._ Very well; now I confess your Discovery to be true, what do you
say to mine?
_Ber._ Why, I confess----I wou'd swear 'twere false, if I thought you
were Fool enough to believe me.
_Wor._ Now am I almost in Love with you again. Nay, I don't know but
I might be quite so, had I made one short Campaign with _Amanda_.
Therefore, if you find 'twould tickle your Vanity, to bring me down
once more to your Lure, e'en help me quickly to dispatch her Business,
that I may have nothing else to do, but to apply myself to yours.
_Ber._ Do you then think, Sir, I am old enough to be a Bawd?
_Wor._ No, but I think you are wise enough to----
_Ber._ To do what?
_Wor._ To hoodwink _Amanda_ with a Gallant, that she mayn't see who is
her Husband's Mistress.
_Ber._ [_Aside._] He has reason: The Hint's a good one.
_Wor._ Well, Madam, what think you on't?
_Ber._ I think you are so much a deeper Politician in these Affairs
than I am, that I ought to have a very great regard to your Advice.
_Wor._ Then give me leave to put you in mind, that the most easy, safe,
and pleasant Situation for your own Amour, is the House in which you
now are; provided you keep _Amanda_ from any sort of Suspicion. That
the way to do that, is to engage her in an Intrigue of her own, making
yourself her Confidante. And the way to bring her to intrigue, is to
make her jealous of her Husband in a wrong place; which the more you
foment, the less you'll be suspected. This is my Scheme, in short;
which if you follow as you shou'd do, (my dear _Berinthia_) we may all
four pass the Winter very pleasantly.
_Ber._ Well, I could be glad to have nobody's Sins to answer for but my
own. But where there is a Necessity--
_Wor._ Right! as you say, where there is a Necessity, a Christian is
bound to help his Neighbour. So, good _Berinthia_, lose no time, but
let us begin the Dance as fast as we can.
_Ber._ Not till the Fiddles are in tune, pray, Sir. Your Lady's Strings
will be very apt to fly, I can tell you that, if they are wound up
too hastily. But if you'll have patience to skrew them to a pitch by
degrees, I don't doubt but she may endure to be play'd upon.
_Wor._ Ay, and will make admirable Musick too, or I'm mistaken; but
have you had no private Closet Discourse with her yet about Males and
Females, and so forth, which may give you hopes in her Constitution;
for I know her Morals are the Devil against us.
_Ber._ I have had so much Discourse with her, that I believe were she
once cur'd of her fondness to her Husband, the Fortress of her Virtue
wou'd not be so impregnable as she fancies.
_Wor._ What! she runs, I'll warrant you, into that common Mistake of
fond Wives, who conclude themselves virtuous, because they can refuse a
Man they don't like, when they have got one they do.
_Ber._ True, and there I think 'tis a presumptuous thing in a Woman
to assume the Name of Virtuous, till she has heartily hated her
Husband, and been soundly in love with somebody else. Whom if she has
withstood--then--much good may it do her!
_Wor._ Well, so much for her Virtue. Now, one word of her Inclinations,
and every one to their Post. What Opinion do you find she has of me?
_Ber._ What you cou'd wish; she thinks you handsome and discreet.
_Wor._ Good, that's thinking half Seas over. One Tide more brings us
into Port.
_Ber._ Perhaps it may, tho' still remember, there's a difficult Bar to
pass.
_Wor._ I know there is, but I don't question I shall get well over it,
by the help of such a Pilot.
_Ber._ You may depend upon your Pilot, she'll do the best she can; so
weigh Anchor, and be gone as soon as you please.
_Wor._ I'm under Sail already. Adieu.
[_Exit ~Wor~._
_Ber._ _Bon Voyage._
_Sola._
So, here's fine Work. What a Business have I undertaken! I'm a
very pretty Gentlewoman, truly; but there was no avoiding it: He'd
have ruin'd me, if I had refus'd him. Besides, faith, I begin to
fancy there may be as much pleasure in carrying on another body's
Intrigue, as one's own. This at least is certain, it exercises
almost all the entertaining Faculties of a Woman: For there's
employment for Hypocrisy, Invention, Deceit, Flattery, Mischief,
and Lying.
_Enter ~Amanda~, her Woman following her._
_Wom._ If you please, Madam, only to say, whether you'll have me to buy
'em or not.
_Aman._ Yes, no, go fiddle; I care not what you do. Pr'ythee leave me.
_Wom._ I have done.
[_Exit Wom._
_Ber._ What in the Name of _Jove_'s the matter with you?
_Aman._ The matter, _Berinthia_! I'm almost mad, I'm plagu'd to death.
_Ber._ Who is it that plagues you?
_Aman._ Who do you think shou'd plague a Wife, but her Husband?
_Ber._ O ho, is it come to that? We shall have you wish yourself a
Widow by and by.
_Aman._ Wou'd I were any thing but what I am! A base ungrateful Man,
after what I have done for him, to use me thus!
_Ber._ What, he has been ogling now, I'll warrant you?
_Aman._ Yes, he has been ogling.
_Ber._ And so you are jealous? Is that all?
_Aman._ That all! Is jealousy then nothing?